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Galaxy of Horrors – Extract

A Black Library Publication

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THE TRIAL OF LUCILLE VON SHARD

DENNY FLOWERS

The glorified tent was sweltering, the canvas doing little to repel the oppressive heat of the surrounding swamp. The press of bodies only made it worse, the soldiers of the Astra Militarum crammed onto foldout chairs. Two particularly burly specimens flanked me, ostensibly as my guards. But their true function was to ensure I fulfilled my assigned role. For I was their star witness, whether I wanted to be or not.

The prosecutor was already present. Tank Commander Baszler, still clad in her combat fatigues. Her shoulders were bare, the skin muddied and scarred from battle, but my gaze was drawn to her lower limbs. I do not know how she lost her legs. No doubt it was a tale of heroism and duty. But they had been replaced by steel talons reminiscent of an avian predator’s. She might have looked comical, pacing before the judges’ bench, her gait possessing a distinctly birdlike quality. But I recognised the look in her eyes. I had seen it before in both allies and enemies. They were the dead eyes of a cold-hearted killer, and her talons were sharp enough to disembowel a man with a single stroke.

I tensed as the tent’s vestibules peeled open and Major Malechant strode into the makeshift courtroom. He was clad in his dress uniform, though it was already stained by swamp water, just like everything else on this accursed planet. On his left marched an officer of the Astra Militarum I did not recognise, but the man on his right was known to me. Flight Commander Gradeolous of the Aeronautica Imperialis, resplendent in his flight suit, his whiskers artfully crafted into boarlike tusks. He was not part of my squadron, at least not officially, though given our casualty rate that might have changed since the morning. As he passed, he nodded to me, and offered a cupped whisper that no doubt carried across the tent.

‘Steady, Flight Sergeant Jaymes. You need only speak the truth.’

My grip on my prayer beads tightened. The truth. As though it were that simple. As though my testimony would not condemn a comrade to death, or at best imprisonment in some penal colony. I suspected the former, for Malechant needed an example to be set. Perhaps that was why soldiers of the Astra Militarum were present, lasguns slung over their shoulders. Perhaps the trial was merely prequel to the execution.

Major Malechant took his seat at the bench, Gradeolous and the other officer flanking him. A triumvirate, ostensibly charged with determining the accused’s guilt. Except, given the way Malechant was conversing with Tank Commander Baszler, it appeared he’d already made his decision. I doubted the unknown officer would rule against him, leaving only Flight Commander Gradeolous. Alone, he could not overrule the others even if he so desired. His presence was merely to provide a veneer of validity to the proceedings, as would my testimony.

Malechant hammered the butt of his laspistol on the desk, silencing the whispers plaguing the confines of the canvas court. But he did not speak immediately, instead taking a moment to meet the gaze of those present. He seemed neither angry nor exuberant, his features arranged to convey the sombreness of the proceedings. When he spoke, it was almost a sigh.

‘I hereby convene this hearing in the name of the Imperium under the emergency powers pertaining to an active warzone. And, given how active this warzone is, I intend to conduct this trial with every expedience. I will not waste time repeating the circumstances that led us here, for most present witnessed what transpired, and those who did not will no doubt have heard of it from the survivors.’

He paused to glare at the attendees, but when his gaze met mine, it softened. Perhaps he sought to convey an apology, or sympathy for my plight. If so, his efforts were undermined by the presence of his guards. Indeed, all attending belonged to Malechant’s regiment. All except Flight Commander Gradeolous, the defendant and me.

‘Call Flight Commander Lucille von Shard to the stand!’

At his order the vestibules were flung open. In she strode, wrists manacled, her pale cheek bruised, perhaps by those who first detained her on our return to base. But her scarred lip wore a familiar sneer, and she walked with her head high. As she passed, she glanced towards me.

‘Tell everything, leave nothing out,’ she murmured, before being shoved forward by the guards, until she stood in front of the makeshift bench.

‘Flight Commander von Shard. You are charged with disobeying orders, dereliction of duty, and causing the death of hundreds of the God-Emperor’s soldiers. Do you have anything to say before we proceed?’

‘Anything?’ She frowned. ‘Well, if it pleases the court, I would quote the words of my father, renowned hero Colonel Horotha von Shard. I haven’t quite memorised the passage though, so, if nobody objects, I will make a brief trip to high command, pick up a few volumes of his memoirs, and be back here within a matter of days. Does anyone need anything?’

The butt of a lasgun struck her face, her head snapping to the side. She hissed in pain as the trial commenced.

It was but a day earlier that I’d watched the sun crest the misted swamps of Bacchus, its diffused light revealing the armoured convoy in all its glory. Admittedly, it would have been more glorious were the vehicles not clotted by the mire’s filth. The Chimera troop transports were theoretically amphibious, ideal for this sort of environment. But the mud was pervasive, penetrating viewports and clogging tank tracks. Travelling even a few miles required near-constant maintenance and clearance. Not that it mattered that day, for we had nowhere to go. The greenskins were coming to us.

Beneath me, through the Vulture gunship’s sensors, I watched as the soldiers of the Astra Militarum prepared their defences. No trenches or minefields could be laid in such terrain, but they did their best to anchor their line against the trunks of the vast mandack trees, while barrels of promethium outfitted with improvised explosive charges were deposited deep in the mud. Tank Commander Baszler oversaw the preparation, her taloned lower limbs gripping the chassis of a Leman Russ battle tank, its tracks heavily modified to give it a chance in the swamps.

I saw her glance towards the Vulture, muttering something that invoked laughter from her nearest troops. I know they had little love for me. It was not personal; I represented the Aeronautica Imperialis, those brash pilots who soared overhead, never sullying themselves with shovel or bayonet. Our boots rarely set foot in the mire. None of us had lost limbs to the disease-ridden filth.

Baszler’s hand flicked to her vox. A moment later her voice crackled in my ear.

‘Jaymes?’

‘Sir?’

‘Status update.’

‘The main ork force is heading this way. Our reconnaissance has confirmed they possess no air assets and our forces have secured the airspace.’

‘Are reinforcements poised to counter-attack?’

‘Yes, sir,’ I replied. ‘Fuelled and set to launch. At full speed they can be here in minutes.’

‘Good. Once the greenskins are committed we will deploy the fighters and wipe them out. Shard must respond the instant I give the order. Make that clear.’

‘Yes, sir,’ I said as her vox cut out. I was used to relaying such orders. Allegedly, this was due to localised interference, requiring additional elevation to boost the vox signal. But in truth I suspected I acted as intermediary due to the temperaments of our commanding officers.

Still, I made a point of ascending, until the Vulture hovered a hundred feet above the mire. I engaged the vox, encountering a blast of static until a familiar voice suddenly cut through.

‘What now?’

‘Sir? This is Flight Sergeant Jaymes. I have an update from Tank Commander Baszler.’

‘Who?’

‘Our acting commander, sir.’

‘Oh, the one with the metal feet?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Well, do tell. Is the war over and we get to go home? Because I’m not sure the local climate suits me. I have a delicate complexion.’

‘No, sir,’ I sighed. ‘Tank Commander Baszler requested I confirm reinforcements are prepped for launch.’

‘I see. Forgive me, Jaymes, but that would seem to be her previous order verbatim.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Isn’t repeating the same order fairly pointless?’

‘Perhaps, sir. I merely do as bid.’

‘Not so. You also interrupt my bath.’

‘Bath, sir?’

‘Indeed. Well needed too, given how disgusting this planet is. I feel dirty just looking at it. God-Emperor knows what it must be like to actually wade through the stuff.’

‘Sir… we need you to be ready for redeploy the moment we spot the enemy. Tank Commander Baszler is adamant–’

‘Oh calm down, Jaymes. I have access to a towel, and Mendax Matertera is fully fuelled and ready to fly.’

‘Your Lightning?’ I asked, picturing the craft. ‘But that is an air superiority fighter. Tank Commander Baszler’s orders were for you to pilot an Avenger, in order to maximise ground support–’

‘Sorry, I think the vox malfunctioned, because for a moment it almost sounded like you were trying to advise me, Flight Commander Lucille von Shard, the greatest fighter ace of this or any age, on rudimentary aerial combat? But you wouldn’t do that, would you, Jaymes?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Because that would not only be insulting, but also an indication that you had been rendered a babbling simpleton. Or perhaps suffered a head wound. Is that it? Did you hit your head? Try shaking it from side to side and see if anything flops out.’

‘My apologies, sir. I merely–’

‘Or is this an attempt to shirk front-line combat? You feign idiocy so I will relieve you of duty? Let me speak to your co-pilot.’

‘I have no co-pilot. We have insufficient personnel available.’

‘Pity. Well then, I guess you will just have to muddle through until it is time for me to ride to your rescue.’

I made to reply when something caught my eye.

There, on the horizon. Smoke trails bled into the morning mist, forming oily clouds tinted green in the dawn light. Beneath me I saw Baszler rallying her forces.

‘Sir? They are coming.’

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A BLACK LIBRARY PUBLICATION

‘The Trial of Lucille von Shard’, ‘Transplants’, ‘Fool’s Ruin’, ‘A More Perfect Union’, ‘Sacred Hate’, ‘The Brightest and Best’, ‘It Bleeds’, ‘A Small Cog’, ‘Blasphemy of the Fallen’, ‘The Skull Forge’, ‘Aria Arcana’ and ‘Confession of Pain’ first published digitally in 2022.
‘Hell Fist’, ‘Blood Sands’, ‘The Sum of Its Parts’, ‘Less than Human’, ‘The Nature of Prayer’, ‘The Reward of Loyalty’ and ‘The Bleeding Stars’ first published digitally in 2023.
This eBook edition published in 2023 by Black Library, Games Workshop Ltd, Willow Road, Nottingham, NG7 2WS, UK.

Represented by: Games Workshop Limited – Irish branch, Unit 3, Lower Liffey Street, Dublin 1, D01 K199, Ireland.

Produced by Games Workshop in Nottingham.
Cover illustration by Phil Moss.

Galaxy of Horrors © Copyright Games Workshop Limited 2023. Galaxy of Horrors, GW, Games Workshop, Black Library, The Horus Heresy, The Horus Heresy Eye logo, Space Marine, 40K, Warhammer, Warhammer 40,000, the ‘Aquila’ Double-headed Eagle logo, and all associated logos, illustrations, images, names, creatures, races, vehicles, locations, weapons, characters, and the distinctive likenesses thereof, are either ® or TM, and/or © Games Workshop Limited, variably registered around the world.
All Rights Reserved.

A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library.

ISBN: 978-1-80407-586-9

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